


Poison nector

by meteoropera



Category: Valkyrie Profile Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meteoropera/pseuds/meteoropera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried to chase the poison away but found himself addicted to the dangerous taste of death. Lucian questions Arngrim on his love for danger and a certain black winged Valkyrie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison nector

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble for the Valkyrie Profile fandom. Because Hrist is so under appreciated.

_I tried to chase the poison away. It kept coming back to me._

_Don't you know how sweet yet foul Death smelt?_

 

"I have." He replies, glancing at Death herself. "It's like perfume. Death on some people smells terrible. Death on some other people will smell so sweet."

 

"How do you reckon Death herself smells like?"

Arngrim gave Lucian a very odd look. The younger blonde shrugged it off.

  
"You worked alongside what seem like a miniature version of Death. Her perfume lingers on each and every one of her Einherjars. You included." The younger boy noted, watching as the oldest Valkyrie strode past the hall in a hurry to attend to another job.

 

The older man contemplated. The smell of Hrist's perfume was extremely strong yet extremely light. It was like a form of dark, exotic candy that can never be eaten. Arngrim was tempted to eat that candy. He wanted to peel the wrapper off the candy and eat it.

 

_Tell the world that it's his._

 

"I don't know how Death smells like on me." Arngrim laid back down on the staircase along the great hall of Valhalla, exhausted after a day of training. "But I do know that Death ...carries a promising scent on herself."

 

"Promising scent?"

 

"Yes. To mask her facade of failures. Do you not know that Death weeps behind close doors?"


End file.
